


Lost Till You're Found

by saunatonttu



Series: Eleven Days of KuroTsukki [9]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxiety, Getting Together, M/M, kurotsukkiweek day 9, prompt: college
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 12:22:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4304892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saunatonttu/pseuds/saunatonttu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukishima Kei meets Kuroo Tetsurou for the first time on a Tuesday afternoon, and he can already tell it's not going to end well for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Till You're Found

The noise went straight to his head, spreading the dull ache between his temples further as his lips curled down in dismay upon hearing yet another ringing of the bell from the door.

Another customer, another pain.

Kei managed to soothe the wrinkles from his face into a neutral expression by the time the newcomer made it to the counter to make his order, his stride easy to watch as his hips swayed to a side purposely.

Black hair that formed a real disaster area, golden yellow eyes that gleamed too bright for a Tuesday afternoon, and a worn-out leather jacket that made people turn their heads.

Kei didn’t even blink at the sight for a second time.

“Good afternoon,” he said pleasantly, straining to force a smile on his lips, eyelids falling shut as he did.

The smile on the customer’s face widened, revealing white teeth, and Kei’s stomach sank with the premonition---

_this is not going to end well._

.

_step out the door and it feels like rain_

_._

“He’s here again,” Yamaguchi called when he entered the back room of the shop, voice tinged with curiosity and amusement. “Third time this week.”

“Hinata’s finally stopped screwing around with the orders,” Kei said evenly and with the feather-light pretense that he had no idea of who his longtime friend was talking about.  

(He knew, he knew with the surety of a person that has been avoiding someone with all his might.)

“Maybe that’s why the customers keep coming back,” Kei added, focusing on not scrubbing the plate too hard.

He could imagine the way Yamaguchi must have been rolling his eyes in muted despair over Kei’s reluctance to try anything with new people.

“Tsukki, he’s literally been asking for _the pretty blond that was here when I first came_ every time,” Yamaguchi said, mimicking the customer’s deep voice well enough for hairs to stand up on the back of Kei’s head.

“Not my fault he has a thing for blonds,” Kei muttered, wiping the plate dry harshly as his heart pounded like a doomsday’s toll.

 “I know you don’t like being on the counter and all, but he’s so eager it’s almost torture to shrug and suggest him to come back later.”

“I’m not here to make small talk with customers,” Kei pointed out as he set the plate down and went for another one in the sink, a lump in his throat forming as his resolution faltered just the slightest,

He didn’t turn to look at Yamaguchi even as the other sighed out loud.

He didn’t need to do that to know Yamaguchi wouldn’t do anything out of line that would rock the delicate boat that was Tsukishima Ke’s life and routine.

 

 

But sometimes life was like a cactus: prickly and spreading in directions you least expected it to.

(Alternatively and more crudely put: life felt like someone shoved a cactus up your ass.)

Saturday morning shift found Kei on the counter, eyeing his nails with a carefully blank expression as he listened to the banter behind him (Hinata and Kageyama _again_ ) as there was nothing else to listen to.

Well, there _was_ the radio, but it was tuned to the station that only aired lame love songs that did nothing to make Kei want to listen.

The shop was quiet, for once, with only a few morning birds scattered around the shop, nursing themselves with a cup of coffee or tea. It was peaceful enough for Kei to regret not taking his college homework with him.

Not that there was much left for him to do; sleepless Friday night had been spent rewriting his notes and outlining an essay not due before next month.

Mostly, Kei just needed something that would take his mind and anchor it down into the moment instead of his thoughts floating in an incomprehensible and thick fog inside his head.

He needed the distraction for damage control.

But, oh boy, would he regret that thought, that silent prayer for something to prevent his inevitable downslide into the blank slate he was most of the days.

 

The distraction’s name was Kuroo, the guy that had apparently been bummed out by Kei’s recent habit of avoiding him.

(Like the plague that the festering feeling of shallow attraction towards the stranger truly was.)

“Hey,” Kuroo said, grinning until the dimple on his right cheek showed, and Kei wanted to die a little on the inside as he glanced behind him in hopes either Hinata or Tanaka would take the customer off his shoulders.

No chance, he realized when the space behind the counter was clear from other presences.

“Good morning,” Kei said pleasantly, turning back around with a sunny smile on his face, painfully fake and stretching his lips uncomfortably. “What shall it be today... Kuroo-san?”

It was a little disconcerting how easy it was for him to remember Kuroo’s name.

What was even more disconcerting was how easy on the eyes Kuroo was, despite that ridiculous bedhead and the fact that Kei usually didn’t care about people’s looks enough to take a second look.

Even the frown that lingered on the edges of Kuroo’s face, and Kei wanted to punch himself in the face for being dumb.

“Y’know, you don’t have to play nice with me, glasses-kun—“

“It’s Tsukishima,” Kei corrected him, blanching when the words left his mouth. It was hard to tell from his already pallid skin. “Er. The usual, I guess?”

“Well, sure,” Kuroo grinned, wide and eyes crinkling, “and for dessert, your number.”

Kei pretended to check the menu that hung on the wall behind me. “Unfortunately, we don’t have that kind of dessert,” he said, voice pseudo-apologetic, as he turned around. “I’d recommend the strawberry shortcake. It’ll melt in your mouth.”

The disappointed flicker in Kuroo’s eyes would usually have been worth it, but Kei merely felt nauseous as Kuroo kept looking at him like he was curious about Kei, like he wanted to _know_ him.

The look of someone who didn’t know what he was getting himself into.

“Is that your objective opinion or is that your favorite?” Kuroo smiled, the disappointment gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“Wouldn’t—“ _you like to know_ were the words that hung on Kei’s tongue, but he bit down on his lip before he could voice them, forcing a serene, although blank, expression back on his face. “Yeah.”

Surely, such a small admission wouldn’t come back to bite him in the future.

.

_that’s the sound (that’s the sound) on your window pane_

.

As it turned out, Kei had been dead wrong about that, and Kuroo proved it to him the following week on a Wednesday evening when Kei was rewriting his notes at one of the shop’s corner tables, headphones tucked over his ears to tune out other sounds.

As annoying as public places were, good music always made up for the lowkey anxiety that made Kei’s shoulders hunch and his tongue sharp when talked to.

He didn’t notice Kuroo before it was too late.

He only noticed something was off when he caught sight of the sleeve of a leather jacket, worn-out and supposedly retro, and Kei’s heart jumped into his throat, startled and annoyed.

He lifted his gaze from the notes, a frown between his brows as he now faced Kuroo (first name: unknown, and it better stay that way) and reluctantly pulled the headphones down from his ear, fingers shaking imperceptibly.

“Kuroo-san.” Kei’s voice fell flat, but he didn’t mind it so much, hoping that Kuroo would take the hint and leave him alone.

“Tsukishima-kun.” There was that shit-eating grin on Kuroo’s face, all charming and dorky in the same package. “College homework?”

 _No shit, Sherlock,_ Kei thought, his hands sweating as he discreetly wiped them on his jeans. “Yeah,” he said, lips curling down as he looked at the notes he had been rewriting. “Rewriting my notes, for most part,” he elaborated when Kuroo didn’t say anything.

“I can tell,” Kuroo said, and his eyes crinkled in that particular way that made Kei feel even more shit. “Psychology? I hope it’s psychology.”

(Stop looking at me like that. No one looks at me like that.)

“I assume you’re a psych major, then,” Kei said, his lips curving up despite himself as he allowed himself to take in more of Kuroo. Despite the punkish look he had going on for him with that jacket, hair and the nose piercing, the man himself didn’t seem too abrasive.

And Kei sort of loathed him for that, already.

“Yep,” Kuroo grinned, less shit-eating and far more genuine than anything Kei had seen directed at him that wasn’t from Yamaguchi or Akiteru. “I assume you go to a college nearby, since I haven’t seen you around the dorms or any other student housing.”

 _That’s a huge leap between two statements,_ Kei furrowed his brows.

“Yeah, I live with my brother since the apartment is pretty close to the college,” he said slowly, shifting on his seat as he frowned at his notes while ignoring the nervous flutter in his chest.

The beginnings of an old anxiety; _he’ll see how awful I am if this conversations keeps on going._

“Nice.” Kuroo’s grin brightened slowly like the sunrise in the morning, and Kei had no idea when he had stopped staring at his notes and started staring at that smile instead.

_Shit, this is why I was avoiding you._

“You didn’t answer my indirect question, though, Tsukishima-kun,” Kuroo continued. “What’s your major?”

“Not psychology,” Kei said flatly.

Unexpectedly, Kuroo took no offense; instead, he laughed harder than necessary at Kei’s response, the sound warm and kind to Kei’s ears.

“That’s too bad,” Kuroo said sincerely, as he set pushed one of the two plates of strawberry shortcake towards Kei.

Throat dry, Kei stared at the treat, wondering how he had failed to notice that Kuroo had come with those.

“One of those is for you,” Kuroo clarified when Kei made no movement towards the piece of cake. “Saw you studying, and I thought you might need something to keep your mind fresh.”

“You literally bought strawberry shortcake for a complete stranger,” Kei said slowly. Maybe this person was insane. Maybe he was the next serial killer on the loose. Maybe he was just being nice.

Maybe, but who in their right mind would be nice to Kei when all they saw was the icy exterior?

“Well, I may be testing my theory on your favorite dessert,” Kuroo allowed, laughing at the dumbfounded expression on Kei’s face. “C’mon, Tsukishima, it’s not like your coworkers would poison it.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Kei said darkly, pointedly glancing to the front where Hinata was goofing off and Yamaguchi—

Yamaguchi was looking right at him, a knowing smile on his face, and Kei wanted to sink through the floor and into the center of the Earth.

Kei turned his gaze to the piece, rolling his eyes as he tugged the plate closer, over his notes and pretended that his hands weren’t shaking at all.

Pretended that Kuroo’s unwarranted kindness didn’t make his chest swell with warmth he hadn’t experienced often, if at all; it was somehow different from the steady friendship with Yamaguchi, and his brotherly bond with Akiteru.

Kei wanted out of this gale before it could turn into a storm.

 

_take to the streets, but you can’t ignore_

 

Kei was fairly comfortable behind his exterior of snarky remarks and icy glares, because that was what kept most people from wanting to take a look into him and what _really_ made him tick.

No one really wanted a friend that had issues, because having a friend like that meant dealing with those issues.

And people were all the same: _you just need to try, Tsukishima, and you’ll be fine._

_You’ll be fine._

It was easier to stop listening.

What did they know about mornings when getting up from the bed was a task more daunting than shark-infested waters?

What did they know about anxiety that wasn’t cute shyness, but blood-boiling irritation and need to lash out?

They never woke up in the middle of the night just to stare at themselves in the bathroom mirror and see the faults no one pointed out but which were there. They didn’t sit in the shower for hours with clothes still on when it got really bad.

They didn’t have many reasons to be afraid of being shunned, of people turning their backs on them…

…not like Kei did, at least.

 

The coffee shop smelled like coffee beans and air refresher, a combination Kei wasn’t most fond of, but the shop was like a second home to him.

Today, Kei didn’t want to be there, because he knew Kuroo would come around during his shift.

On Thursdays, Kuroo always came a little past four in the afternoon, a half an hour or so after Kei’s shift began.

Kei knew that, and yet he hadn’t done anything to change his shift despite Akiteru always telling him that it was okay to change it if Kei was having one of his bad days.

(He was looking forward to seeing Kuroo, to exchanging pleasantries and a casual, but forced, laugh.

The realization made him sick to his stomach, because he had thought he was above giving someone this much power over him.)

“Hey there, Tsukki.”

Kei hummed, his heart twisting inside his chest. “Good afternoon, Kuroo-san. The usual order?”

Kuroo was leaning over the counter, confident in his manner, and Kei’s eyes lazily, almost on their own, flickered to Kuroo’s mouth, the shape of his lips.

He wanted Kuroo much more than he was supposed to, much more than he could afford to, as it was inevitable he would let Kuroo’s expectations of him down.

“Of course. You know me so well by now, Tsukki.” Kuroo’s expression was something like a real life version of the heart-eyed emoji Kei sometimes saw people use in text messages and such.

And it made Kei ridiculously full of contentment.

And _that_ was as terrifying as any ghost.

“Please wipe that expression off your face, Kuroo-san,” Kei said lightly, lips set in a thin line since Kuroo didn’t mind his lack of expressions. “Strawberry shortcake, as well?”

“Only if you’d join me, moonshine.”

“What did you just—“ Kei choked, the back of his neck burning as his stomach turned inside out as the storm inside him stirred up once more, his knees wavering a little under the weight of the feeling.

“It’s your brother’s coffee house, right? I’m sure you can afford to take it easy occasionally.”

“Are you trying to seduce me away from work, Kuroo-san?”

“Damn, you caught me,” Kuroo faked a sheepish laugh, his face inching closer to Kei’s, and Kei’s heart skipped a beat. Shit. He was a goner. “I mean,” Kuroo cleared his throat, eyelids falling heavily over the specks of gold, “if you want me to, Tsukki.”

“Fine,” Kei said, feeling heat go up to the tips of his ears. “Only because you’re holding up the other customers.”

Kuroo winked at him, a knowing grin tugging at his mouth. “Two pieces of strawberry shortcake and a café au lait, then.”

“You got it,” Kei said, forcing an angelic smile upon his lips even as he felt his nerves burst into fire when Kuroo pulled back, his breath momentarily tingling on Kei’s face.

Kuroo’s smile flustered him, made him tumble inwardly as he turned to relay the order, his neck burning hot under Kuroo’s wandering gaze.

 

This, Kei realized later in the lonesomeness of the shop bathroom, was what it felt like to fall.

He was more concerned by the lack of parachute than the falling itself.

 

Kei couldn’t believe his luck (misfortune).

There he was, two rows before him. Kuroo Tetsurou, who was something like a fresh breeze of wind after being on standstill for so long.

Why was Kuroo Tetsurou in his history class, _why of all people was he there_ —?

Kei’s thoughts scattered all over the place, to things like _I haven’t been doing so well lately in this teacher’s classes_ and _Kuroo-san please don’t notice me for the love of everything_ and _I wish you would notice, though._

Damn it.

This was just pathetic, letting himself get distressed over by how much Kuroo had come to mean to him and how afraid he was of letting Kuroo see any other parts of his life than the one shut inside that coffee shop.

Outside of that coffee shop, Tsukishima Kei was just a pathetic college student that lived with his brother and relied on his ability to off his emotions so that he could keep on going like he had since high school.

Tall, awkward, anxious – it wasn’t a good combination.

_Maybe he didn’t take a look at the class roster._

 

“Tsukki!”

Kei hurried his steps as he made his way out of the lecture hall. _There went that hope._

His heart beat loudly enough for him to feel it all the way in his ears as he tried to lose himself into the crowd of students.

“Hey, you’re Tsukki, right? Please stop ignoring me—“ A hand landed on Kei’s shoulder, fingers tight around the fabric of Kei’s turtle-neck shirt.

“Kuroo-san,” Kei said mildly, turning his head just enough. “I didn’t expect to run into you.”

The slight glimmer of Kuroo’s nose piercing left him weak in the knees. Why did piercings have to be so awfully attractive?

He could still brush Kuroo off and disappear into the crowd, if he wanted to, but the warmth of Kuroo’s hand that seeped into his shoulder held him rooted to the place.

“C’mon, Tsukki, you heard the row call. Surely you don’t know another Kuroo Tetsurou?” Kuroo’s smile was teasing, but the curve of his lip showed hesitance, unsureness over his words.

_No._

_I’m pretty sure I’d be screwed if there was another you._

Kei grimaced at the thought; that wasn’t the best-formatted sentence. “No, unfortunately I know only you.”

“Well, that stings,” Kuroo laughed, still sounding unsure as he took in Kei’s edgy tone of voice and stance. “Hey, you... wanna grab some lunch in the cafeteria or something?”

“Sure.” Kei sincerely hoped he didn’t sound as eager as he felt. He wasn’t supposed to get attached, he wasn’t supposed to allow Kuroo more room in his life, but there he was, hands sweating when Kuroo grinned at him like he had just won the lottery with time spent with Kei as the prize.

_You’re in for a disappointment, Kuroo-san._

He wasn’t supposed to enjoy Kuroo’s company to the point where he was able to smile for real, but somehow it happened.

“You have a nice smile, you know,” Kuroo pointed it out, even. “When you smile for real, at least.”

“Yeah, well,” Kei shrugged, hiding his face behind the bottle of soda. “Don’t get used to it, Kuroo-san; it doesn’t happen often.”

“I know,” Kuroo said, sounding a bit sad by the fact, before taking a huge bite of his sandwich. “You going to be okay with just Coke, Tsukki?”

“I ate a lot in the morning,” Kei lied, knowing the possible chastise that would come if he simply said that he wasn’t hungry. “I have snacks in the bag for afternoon. No big deal.”

“Hmm,” Kuroo hummed, and Kei couldn’t help but wonder how his voice would sound like singing. Kei’s toes curled inside his shoes at the thought. That would end him. He wouldn’t be able to look at Kuroo in the eye after that, probably.

“You can have this, if you want to,” Kuroo offered the half-eaten sandwich like it was a grand gesture, which it in actuality was for Kei but he wouldn’t let Kuroo in on that.

“I don’t want your spit in my mouth.”

Well, that came out harsher than he had intended.

“Tsukkiiiii, I’m being nice!”

_Maybe I’d let you kiss me if you asked._

“No, I really don’t need it. Eat it yourself, Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo deflated after that, his lips curling down in concern, and Kei resolutely tried to ignore both that and the nausea welling in his own stomach.

 

“Can I have your number now?” Kuroo asked one Friday night when they sat at their usual table, both doing their history homework. Neither needed any help from the other, but the company was like a nice warm blanket after a week of exhausting classes and work shifts.

“What?” Kei raised his head, biting at his lower lip. He had known it would come up again. Of course it would. Kuroo-san was interested in him, after all, and even someone as self-loathing as Kei could see it as clear as a day.

 _It’s because he doesn’t know the real you,_ Kei always thought, and that kept him from voicing his own stormy feelings to Kuroo.

“Phone number, you know,” Kuroo made the gesture for a phone call with his hand. “I’d like to keep in touch instead of having these random encounters, Tsukki.”

Kei’s stomach flipped, and he choked a little on the piece of strawberry shortcake he had been eating. “Kuroo-san…”

“I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to, but,” Kuroo pouted a little, “it’s not unreasonable of me to assume that I’m not the only one enjoying this, right?” Kuroo made a sweeping hand gesture between them. “’Cause I really, _really_ do, Tsukki.”

 _I really like you_ hung in the air between them, and Kei had a hard time swallowing the piece of cake in his mouth down.

He had been afraid of this, afraid of Kuroo asking for it again, because it was the first step to disillusioning Kuroo of what Kei really was.

( _Pathetic_ instead of _cute_.)

“Yeah, I—“ Kei stared at his notes, not seeing a thing as his mind reeled. “Me too, Kuroo-san.”

He was too selfish, and it was going to bite later, but for now…

“Give me your phone so I add put my number there.”

 

 

“You like him,” Yamaguchi groaned at him on their way to the one class they shared. Philosophy, for shits and giggles, but also because he needed the ethics course.

“You _like_ him, Tsukki, and you haven’t told him! It’s been two months!”

“Two and a half.”

“ _See,_ that’s just ridiculous,” Yamaguchi rolled his eyes and nudged at Kei’s side gently. “He’s really into you too, you know.”

“I do know.”

“So why—“

“I don’t want to make him deal with me when it gets bad, Yamaguchi,” Kei said, sighing when Yamaguchi stared at him. “…Fine, I’m scared he’s going to turn out to be just like everyone else, and leave when I hit the downhill.”

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi sighed, and the downward curve of his mouth really annoyed Kei because it showed sympathy. “Kuroo-san doesn’t seem like that kind of person. He has been buying you strawberry shortcake for almost as long as you’ve known each other.”

“So I should date him because of that?” Kei snorted, but the sad thing was, he just might do so. The shortcake was _that_ good, and Kuroo was _that_ nice.

“Yes,” Yamaguchi said simply, his smile gentle. “Also, I’d finally get to tease about what a horrible sap in hiding you are.”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi!”

“Sorry, Tsukki~!” Yamaguchi laughed, and Kei couldn’t stop himself from smiling and acknowledging the flutter in his stomach, born from the thought of confessing to Kuroo.

Ugh.

How should he go about _that_ , though…

 

Confessing via text message was probably the lamest thing ever, but Kei honestly couldn’t stand the thought of saying something like that out loud to Kuroo’s face when he would be able to see the way Kuroo’s eyes would lit up and mouth curl into a warm smile.

He would die inwardly, Kei knew that much; besides, there was always the possibility he had been misreading Kuroo all this time.

Rolling over his stomach on his bed, listening to Akiteru getting ready for his shift, Kei started typing nervously with trembling fingers.

He wasn’t good with emotions. He was good at _blocking_ them.

So how had Kuroo managed to get past all that?

Kei bit at his lower lip as he pressed SEND.

_to: kuroo-san_

_i like you. a lot. I thought you should know. you know which way I mean, probably._

The waiting game began….

 

…but it didn’t last too long, as expected. Kuroo was notorious for checking his phone when he got the chance. (Not as bad as, say, that one upperclassman in Kei’s philosophy class, but almost.)

 _from:_ _kuroo-san_

_romance-wise?????? is this real are you tsukki and not freckles-kun just playing with my heart_

Kei raised an eyebrow. He had had no idea Yamaguchi and Kuroo had talked to each other outside from the coffee shop counter meetings.

His phone buzzed again.

_from: kuroo-san_

_I’ll call you don’t leave anywhere_

Kei snorted, a smile coming over to his face like an uninvited guest just when his phone started ringing in an obnoxious tune that was probably Hinata’s doing.

“Hey,” he muttered when he answered.

“ _Tsukki, it really is you!_ ” Kuroo sounded relieved, and like he was crying, which was alarming. “ _I wasn’t sure what I’d do if it turned out to be Freckles-kun after all.”_

“Yamaguchi wouldn’t do that.” Kei hesitated. Would he...?

 _“You never know,”_ Kuroo said, sounding just as emotional as a second ago. _“Tsukki, I can’t believe you confessed via text message.”_

“I panicked,” Kei insisted, though it wasn’t too far from the truth. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

 _“You could have come over to the coffee shop and told me out loud,”_ Kuroo commented, but then he laughed. _“Just kidding, I know how public places make you feel._ ”

 _He does?_ “You do?”

_“You get all tense and tongue-tied. It’s not hard to pick up on once I got to know you in private.”_

Kei swallowed, thickly, heartbeat accelerating. “…You don’t mind that part of me?”

 _“Why would I?”_ Kuroo sounded genuinely amazed Kei would ask that, and some of the knots in Kei’s stomach loosened. Kei smiled, softer and happier.

“Never mind that, but…” Kei snickered. “You haven’t responded to me, you know.”

 _“Wait, wha—OH!”_ Kuroo’s laugh came back, relieved and happy enough to make Kei’s toes curl in pleasure from hearing it. “ _I like you, too. In every manner of speaking. I would buy you all the strawberry shortcakes in the world if I could.”_

Kei snickered, pushing his face into the pillow. “Do it.”

 _“I don’t have that kind of money,_ ” Kuroo said mournfully, _“but I can come over with the one I bought from an actual bakery earlier!”_

Oh, god. Kei might be a little in love.

“I’ll text you my address and directions?” Kei suggested, voice muffled by the pillow as some of the earlier heaviness inside his chest was lifted.

 _“Please do,”_ Kuroo said, _“I’d like to kiss you, as well, if you don’t mind.”_

“Sure,” Kei said quietly. As if he hadn’t been imagining that in his head even before Kuroo asked.

 _“You’re the best,”_ Kuroo swooned. _“I’ll be right over there once you text me the directions, okay?”_

“I’ll be waiting,” Kei smiled.

 

Five minutes passed.

“You still haven’t hung up, Kuroo-san,” Kei groaned miserably, stifling a laugh as he listened to Kuroo’s exasperated voice from the end of the line.

_“You hang up first, Tsukki.”_

“Please, we’re not doing this.”

_“We so are.”_

“Kuroo-san—“

_“Just Kuroo is fine, moonshine.”_

 That embarrassing nickname made Kei hang up, finally.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought this was going to be a lot sadder, since shit hit the fan for me a couple of days ago, but whatever.  
> Wrote most of this today, so uh. it's what is is.
> 
> Thanks, everyone who has taken the time to read and comment so far!


End file.
